"Then why didn't you raise an army of your own?" Roland suddenly asked in confusion. Given Denethor II's background, he was practically destined to become the future Steward. It would not have been excessive for him to pull together a private army from his family in advance to fulfill his ambitions! On the contrary, such a thing would normally earn his family's support and praise! No ambitious family would allow its heir to become a useless fool!
Letting an heir train with an army was an old noble tradition. Roland was thinking of the De Facto Nobles of the empire here, but the nobles of Middle-earth should more or less be similar to those of the Lagrange Empire, right?
"Uh, that involves some political reasons..." Denethor II glanced at the expressionless Holfa, then helplessly shrugged at Roland.
"Politics? Does Gondor have other heirs?" Roland asked in surprise. As far as he remembered, Ecthelion II only had Denethor II as a son. Could there actually be other sons in this world?
"It has nothing to do with my family, but it matters greatly to the other families..." Denethor II rubbed his brow and sighed helplessly, giving Roland a look that said he understood.
Roland, steeped in five thousand years of political struggle, was far too clever. One look at Denethor II's weary eyes, and he immediately understood his situation. Given the character of Gondor's nobles, was there anyone who would not want to drape him in the yellow robe and earn the merit of backing a new ruler? If Denethor II raised an army before Turkon had drawn his last breath, Middle-earth's version of the yellow-robe affair might well occur!
"Heh, those parasites..." Roland gave an awkward laugh. No wonder this young hothead had run to the Northern Territory. There was